ELEVEN
For ScottishLaura, who asked for a trip to the ER: The well-oiled, precise machine that is DSM gets a few new parts that… don't quite fit in just yet. Naturally, this ends with Holle leading a troop of dancers to the ER on a Tuesday afternoon.
As any man in love would tell you, nothing can make a person happier than seeing their loved one smile. Pieter can personally attest to this, of course. The sight of Holle, lips curled upwards and eyes shining, never fails to shape his own features into a mirror image. But Pieter is as much a man in love as he is a mischievous little shit, and there's no way he's going to pass up this rare opportunity to unsettle Holle, who stands in a corner with a worried little frown on her face as she assesses the less-than-satisfactory performances of their new additions.
"Imagine if the others left before the victory tour," He whispers as soon as he's close enough to do so without drawing attention to himself, just to see the horrified look on Holle's face.
"I hope that was worth it, you ass," Holle lands a solid punch to his right arm, her eyes still focused on their new recruits and the mockery they've made of DSM's choreography. "Are you trying to give me an anxiety attack?"
Pieter holds his hands up in a placating gesture, choking down a wince. Perhaps it would be wise to reconsider provoking Holle in the future; those toned arms are good for more than just dancing. "I was joking, Liebling. It'll all work out, you'll see. After all, this is only their fourth day."
"I'm sorry," Holle sighs, gesturing at his arm. She runs an agitated hand through her hair, offering Pieter a small, apologetic smile. "I just… it's odd, isn't it? Ours is a puzzle that was completed nine years ago, but here we are now with missing pieces and new ones thrown into the mix. And I know it's too early to tell but I wonder if these new ones actually fit."
As if to punctuate her statement, a yelp bounces off the dance studio's mirrored walls as a handful of dancers collapse into a pile of flailing limbs. The fact that this is the fifth such occurrence within fifteen minutes does nothing to set Holle's mind at ease.
"You must admit, though," Pieter's quite impressed by how quickly their teammates scramble to their feet and get themselves back into position without sparing a single moment to whine about sore limbs. "There's something to be said for their persistence."
"They're dedicated," Holle agrees. "I'll give them that much. And I know they'll be alright; we picked them over dozens of others, Pieter – I'm quite confident we chose the ones best suited to our standards."
Pieter smiles knowingly. "But?"
Holle sighs. "But I miss Madeleine, and Magnus, and all the others. I'm glad they were willing to stay through Worlds and the tour-" their swan song, the six former members had called it, "- but a part of me wishes they'd never left. You know how I feel about messing with something that works just fine."
"The toaster is supposed to work like that and I shouldn't take it apart to double-check," Pieter recites dutifully.
"I don't know how I feel about DSM being the toaster in this scenario," Holle musters up a teasing grin for his sake. "But yes, that is my point."
"Alright," Pieter speaks up after a moment's consideration. "Let's think of the group as my car, then. It works just fine, but every now and then it's wise to swap out a few parts. This is much the same, Holle." He assures her gently. "We've been doing this for nine years now, and it's nothing short of life-consuming. You and I know better than anyone else that being a part of this team leaves little to no time for personal matters, and we're lucky enough to be in this together. I imagine the others haven't had much success maintaining personal relationships outside of our team."
"I suppose that means this is just the first wave," Holle frowns, shoulders sagging in defeat. "They're all going to leave soon, aren't they? To get married, to move away, to start a solo career," There's something resigned and final in her tone, but her eyes are reluctant still as they regard their remaining teammates.
"I'm sure at least a handful of us will still be doing this long after everyone has begged us to stop," Pieter predicts jokingly. "But yes, I'm afraid you need to learn to let our hatchlings leave the nest, Liebling."
"They're not- that's not what I- ugh," Holle rolls her eyes at Pieter's satisfied smirk. "There's no point in convincing you otherwise, I see."
"Come along, mother duck," Pieter accepts his victory with a laugh as he rests a hand on the small of Holle's back to guide her forward. "Let's see if we can groom those ducklings of yours into graceful swans."
If nothing else, their teammates have impeccable timing. At that exact moment, they all come tumbling down like a house of cards – "I took my eyes off them for one minute," an exasperated Holle mutters – and Pieter watches in some sort of horrified fascination as some fall hard on the ground and others still fall upon those unfortunate souls. Even Holle visibly winces at the awful sound of heads hitting the hardwood floor.
"Alright," Holle steps forward to take charge of the situation immediately. "Don't any of you try to get up right now. Who hit their heads?" She counts a discouraging number of raised hands. "Does anything feel broken or sprained?" Fewer hands now, which offers her some measure of relief, at least. But the last thing she needs is for her dancers to suffer concussions, so Holle isn't taking any risks. The nearest hospital is only a block away and she rounds up seven people who hit their heads and a girl who landed on her arm the wrong way, which might be slightly better than hitting your head on the floor but not by much.
"Those of you lucky enough to have cushioned your fall with your teammate: take a short break, and then get back to work if you're feeling up to it." Holle instructs, tiredly pinching the bridge of her nose. "The rest of you are coming with me to the hospital; the last thing this team needs right now is an undiscovered head injury."
The mention of a hospital trip sets off a chorus of grumbled protests, but a sharp glare is enough to effectively silence them and have the dancers reaching for their coats and gloves. "Hopefully a walk in this biting cold will knock some sense into them."
"I'll come with you," Pieter offers easily.
Holle shakes her head with a heavy sigh. "You need to manage the rest of rehearsal," She reminds him, hiding her reluctance at the prospect of dealing with their teammates on her own.
"Ada can manage it," The mention of her name has one of their more reliable members hesitantly approaching Pieter. "You'll help us take care of things here while we're gone, won't you?" Pieter asks the girl directly.
"Yes, of course," Ada readily accepts her task. "We will be alright here, Kommissar." She assures Holle with a bright smile. "You'll be taking all the new ones with you, after all."
"The troublemakers, you mean," Holle mutters. "Thank you, Ada. We shouldn't be too long but if we're not back by four, you can send everyone home." She figures there's no harm in dismissing everyone a bit earlier after the day they've had. Their next scheduled performance is a whole month away, and it's not like the original members actually need much practice.
"Come on," Pieter pulls her away before she can think of any other instructions to leave Ada with. "Let's go get some heads scanned."
They do a quick headcount to make sure no one's hiding, and Holle double-checks with everyone that they're up for a walk and aren't dealing with any dizziness that might send them wandering off into oncoming traffic. Within moments they are on their merry way, ten of them walking single-file down the sidewalk with Holle leading. Pieter takes great pleasure in comparing her, once more, to a mother duck leading her little ducklings. Too caught up in cursing the weather, wondering what the hell her dancers were thinking and hoping the ER will be relatively quiet on a Tuesday afternoon, Holle chooses to ignore Pieter's teasing and trusts that he'll realize now is really not the time for that.
Explaining the situation to the lady in charge and getting everyone signed up and settled down is its own special kind of hell, but thankfully Pieter steps in just before Holle can snap at the poor lady and manages to get everything settled. His charm isn't enough to help them speed up the process – of course this Tuesday of all Tuesdays would be the one time the ER is bustling – but at least that marks the end of Holle's direct involvement in this process.
"So," Holle crosses her arms, staring down her dancers. "Does anyone want to tell me what the hell you fools were up to?"
"Not particularly," Klaus, a sixteen-year-old Internet beatboxing sensation and their youngest recruit, offers in a tiny voice. He visibly flinches when Holle shoots him an unamused look, and Pieter tries very, very hard to choke down his laughter.
"Trust me," Magda, one of their original members, speaks up. She cradles her wrist at an awkward angle, having made the mistake of sticking out her hand as she fell and landing with her entire weight on her wrist. "You're better off not knowing. It'll save you the trouble of scolding us, which you don't have to do because we feel stupid enough as it is."
"If I hear a single word about this being another attempt to replicate some complicated stunt from a Cirque du Soleil video…" Holle trails off warningly.
Apparently, that's enough to break Klaus. "We're so sorry, Kommissar!" He blurts out, ignoring the warning glares his cohorts shoot him.
"Tattletale," the boy next to him mutters.
"We promise it won't happen again," Klaus goes on, his eyes wide with panic. "Please don't kick us out."
Frustrated beyond belief – her dancers are the reason people put do not try this at home warnings on everything, apparently – Holle closes her eyes and massages her temples. Pieter slips an arm around her waist and decides to take over.
"No one is getting kicked out, Klaus," He assures the boy. "This was just a stupid mistake; it won't cost you your spot on the team. But you are a member of DSM now and we're going to need all of you to behave that way. Have I made myself clear?"
The shock of their normally easygoing and goofy big brother figure suddenly getting so serious is enough to make everyone drop their eyes to the ground and mumble various promises to take rehearsal more seriously in the future.
Only Magda remains unrepentant; having known Pieter and Holle since their first year of university, it's no surprise that the act doesn't work on her. "Ja, Herr Kommissar!" She salutes Pieter jokingly, trying to lighten things up.
A nurse appears and rattles off a list of names, calling Magda and three others in. The remaining members start talking amongst themselves, huddled together in a corner as they wait for their turn. Finally, there is peace and quiet.
"Thank you," Holle sighs, resting her head on Pieter's shoulder as he draws her closer. "Sometimes I just get so frustrated with them."
"Kids will be kids, Liebling," Pieter presses a kiss to her temple. "Just be glad we don't have to bring these home with us at the end of the day."
"Dear God," She shudders. "What a nightmare that would be."
They share a quiet laugh before Holle closes her eyes once more to get a few minutes of rest while Pieter types out a quick message to Ada, telling her to just send everyone home early. It's only three, but he doesn't plan on letting Holle get back to work after this. She's been stressed out ever since Madeleine and the rest left at the end of their victory tour for DSM's second Worlds title, and Pieter knows for a fact that she hasn't been getting enough sleep this week.
Moving forward without six of their original members hasn't been easy, even though they've had plenty of time to get used to the idea. Pieter knows it was only a matter of time before some of them left, knows that it's only a matter of time before even more leave to go pursue other life goals. DSM was never supposed to be this sensation it has snowballed into; they started as a group project, of all things. But the idea of performing for a living, of touring and competing and making music with a group of best friends – it had drawn them all in and with Holle at the helm, somehow they'd made it.
And now, quite suddenly, it's been nine years. They have eight national titles, two Worlds trophies, even a record out and another on its way – these things should have helped him keep track of time. But it feels like all of this has been a dream or a storm they got swept up into, and no one within their little bubble had really felt the passing of time.
Well, that bubble's popped now and suddenly they're all adults, closer to their thirties than their twenties, thinking of houses and spouses and children and a career that will outlast this acapella fad. DSM was fortunate enough to have been in the right place at the right time (they were newly-crowned reigning acapella champions when the music industry opened its arms and promised to turn outcasts into chart-toppers) but even Pieter knows this won't last forever. Acapella rose out of obscurity to join the pantheon of pop, rock, hip-hop and other mainstream, profitable genres, but all that goes up will eventually come crashing down. Now it's only a matter of figuring out how much time they have left in this industry.
As always, Holle appears to be on the same page. "Pieter?" She asks quietly, putting some distance between them so that she can look him in the eye. "How much longer do you think we can keep doing this? And be serious this time, please."
He sighs heavily, dragging a tired hand down his face. "To be honest... I have no idea, Liebling. I mean, it's been nine years. Another ten, maybe? I'd like to think we have at least another ten years left." Close to forty then, and maybe they'd have gotten around to houses and marriage and children by then. "If the group's still doing well, maybe we could just step down instead of leaving. Work behind the scenes, lead them without forcing our aging, aching bones to perform."
"I'd like that," Holle muses. "It's difficult to picture our lives without DSM in it at all." She confesses quietly, offering him a hesitant smile. "When the time comes for us to leave, you might have to drag me kicking and screaming the whole way."
Pieter laughs. "As your boyfriend," odd, how that word feels less and less adequate with each passing day, "I promise to preserve your dignity by tranquilizing you and carrying you away quietly."
Holle leans up to press a chaste kiss to his lips, mindful of their company and present location. "What more could a girl ask for?"
They lapse into silence then, and two hours later finds them waiting on the last of their teammates, the others having received Holle's permission to leave as soon as they were granted a clean bill of health. The ER is quiet now, empty and darker as storm clouds roll in and rob the windows of sunlight. Holle drifts in and out of sleep but Pieter finds that he's the one dreaming, dreaming of now and ten years later and all that time in between.
"Holle?" He finally plucks up the courage to speak. Holle stirs from her spot where she's curled up into his side and looks up at him with a sleepy smile.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to work things out," She whispers, voice hoarse from disuse. Pieter's wide and confused eyes prompt her to explain, with a smile now more teasing than sleepy: "you had your thinking face on".
"You know me too well," Pieter murmurs, his words laced with fondness and warmth.
Holle shrugs in his arms. "It is an acquired skill. Now, what's kept you quiet for nearly two hours?"
"Right," It's an abrupt reminder and Pieter finds his stomach uneasy and his throat dry, nerves getting the best of him as he studies the look in Holle's eyes and wonders if they're ready for this. It can't hurt to ask, right? And he's not actually asking the question, just a question… that might lead to the question.
It takes quite a bit of effort to calm himself and ask her calmly, slowly, clearly: "do you think we'll get married? You know, someday. When we're both ready," Pieter doesn't see the need to tell her he's been ready for years now.
Her lips curve into a smile even as her eyes dim just the slightest bit and cloud over with a hint of hesitance. Holle's always been quick on her feet, though.
"Ask me some other time," She suggests, her casual words an unspoken promise of sorts, a yes… eventually. It's more than enough for now. "Maybe when we're not in the hospital?"
"I'll have you know," Pieter huffs, faking a show of indignation for Holle's entertainment, "that I happen to find this very romantic." It works: her eyes light back up and her smile grows the slightest bit wider, any hint of uncertainty and fear chased back to the darkest corners of her mind. They'll work through that, in time; drag those ghosts out into broad daylight and watch them burn away as he shows her there's nothing to fear when it comes to their future together. Some other time, as Holle suggested.
Klaus comes shuffling out a minute later, all downcast eyes and repeated apologies for the trouble he's caused. Holle puts on a show of adopting her Kommissar persona and warning him this is the first and only time he'll get off this easy, tells him he's lucky no one was seriously hurt. Just as quickly as she slipped into the role, she slips out of it and back into Holle, all gentle tones reassuring Klaus that he's part of this family now and they won't cast him out for something like this.
Pieter sits this one out and merely watches Holle instead, fussing over the small bump on the boy's head and double-checking that the doctor confirmed it's nothing to worry about.
Maybe he can bring up the idea of kids next.
Hey, everyone – I know the last few chapters have been slow and I apologize for that. I'd say the next one picks up the pace but I'm beginning to wonder if this story ever had a pace to begin with. We're just ambling down this fluffy path, rolling down a hill of cotton candy and marshmallows. So maybe the next chapter doesn't pick up the pace, but we'll throw in some chocolate chips to shake things up here on Fluff Street. On another note, I need to stop with the food analogies.
Again, thanks to all of you for reading and leaving such encouraging feedback. It's wonderful to be back and I hope the last few chapters will make up for the hiatus. As of right now, I'm still pretty set on ending this after fifteen chapters but worry not! I've already got an AU one-shot in mind and hope to have that up as part of my Christmas collection this year.
E Salvatore,
November 2015.